Roomies
by Unexplained-Silence
Summary: Due to a sudden need for emergency housing, Prowl's Academy Director has offered half the dorm space as living quarters for those in need. What does this mean? Prowl gets a roommate! He just hopes its someone he can deal with... Just who is this 'Jazz' anyway?
1. Chapter 1

Look! Up in the sky! Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No fools! 'Tis a plot bunny!

Plot Bunny: Yes, fear me insignificant humans! For I have captured Ghost and am holding her hostage until she finishes me. That's right. Despair at the fact that I am another first chapter to a new story instead of an update to a previously existing one! Your grief brings me such great joy. WHUA HA HAH HA HAH HA HAH (and so on and so forth)

I was in the shower thinking about my essay. I should be working on it, I really should. But the bunny attacked me and sunk its bloodsucking fangs into me brain sooooooooooooo here's this.

I do not own the Transformers franchise.

Summary: G1; Pre-war. Due to the explosion that damaged a large portion of the city, everyone has pitched in to help. This includes Prowl's academy, which has converted half the dorm space into living quarters for the currently homeless. What does this mean? Prowl gets a roommate! He just hopes its someone he can deal with.

Time table:  
Decacycle- week  
Cycle- day  
Joor- hour  
Breem- minute  
Tik- second

* * *

He wasn't sure how he felt about it, really. He understood the effort to help, and considered it very generous of the Academy Director to make the offer.

But the thought of sharing the living space that he had (up until this point) occupied by himself was making him just a bit nervous. Okay, a large bit nervous. He didn't even know who he would be rooming with.

Well, that wasn't true. He did have a name. Jazz. And a name could speak a great deal about the bot it designated-but a lot of the time it spoke more about the bot's creators than the bot themselves.

Oh, he could stand here and ponder the affects a bot's creators have upon their creation through personality, psyche, intellect, etc., but this Jazz was scheduled to arrive any breem now. Prowl just hoped that Jazz was a bot who respected schedules and routine.

He could have sought Jazz ought beforehand, gotten to know the mech before living with him. After all, along with the new rooming assignments had come the mech's comm. Frequency, but Prowl simply hadn't had the time. Between his studies, Enforcer internship and the (forced, not that he would breathe a word to _any living thing_ about it) socialization from his creators and Bluestreak, his days were always stacked with work and learning.

Then the city block had to go and blow up. Most of the damage was collateral; the only reason living space was even needed was because of the large amount of dust and other particles in the air. Stuff like that could really damage a bot.

Oh, great. He was immersed in thought again. Thankfully the sound of pedfalls had snapped him out of it. Wait...

That meant the Jazz was here.

Prowl gave the room a final once-over, taking in the neatly sorted datapads and various belongings of his and the still-to-be-unpacked subspace components of Jazz's he gave a satisfied nod and turned back to the door just as it opened.

The instant he set optics on Jazz-he knew it was Jazz, because he fit he name so very perfectly-Prowl knew that his life had just taken a nosedive.

Jazz hadn't known what he was expecting, but this wasn't it. When he opened the door to his new room, there stood the bot that could only be Prowl, looking at him with a guarded expression that belied just the tiniest hint of distaste.

When he had announced his new roomie to his friends, they had barely suppressed snickers. Jazz didn't know who Prowl was, but they apparently did. And judging from Blaster's reaction, Jazz was in for a world of slag. Of course he had tried to get a hold of this Prowl before he moved in, but as fate would have, Prowl evaded him. Probably one of the only mechs to ever be successful at that particular task, in fact.

Beachcomber hadn't been much better. He had dragged Blaster off when Jazz started pressing for details and this had somewhat fragged him off.

Jazz had decided that trying to get information out of his friends was pointless, since they all knew something about his roommate that he didn't, so he decided to be direct. Which proved futile. He had tried the dorm room several different times over the past two cycles, most of which were met with a locked door and the rest with an open but empty dorm room.

Then he had hacked into he academy network to get a copy of Prowl's course schedule. All advanced honors classes and an internship that was normally reserved for older students. The peek at his grades had confirmed Jazz's suspicions-Prowl was a preppy workaholic introvert who put his future above anything to do with the "now." Pretty much the exact opposite of Jazz, except for the fact that Jazz had his future lined up just as much as Prowl.

So when he met the gaze of the black and white (Primus, even his paint job was boring) Praxian standing in front of two perfectly symmetrical berths and a very organized stack of datapads, Jazz knew he would be requesting a transfer.

"Good afternoon. My name is Prowl, and you must be Jazz." His voice was a monotone, lacking inflection and emotion.

Jazz studied the other mech behind the safety of his visor for a few breems before responding. In that time, the only movement Prowl made was the faintest raising of his doorwings.

Finally, he spoke. "Yep. Tha's me." He closed the door behind him and took a step into the room, testing the waters so to speak. "So..." Jazz shuffled his peds a little bit before taking another step forward. "Ah've heard a lot about you."

Prowl, who had started to turn around, paused and looked back over his shoulder with mild surprise. "Really? How so?"

"Oh, ya know..." Jazz paused again. He hadn't planned on saying that-it just came out as an attempt to break the ice. Now he had to avoid seeming like a stalker. But it was harder than it seemed to do so.

"From my professors?" The same monotone as before.

"Yeah! Ah wanted to get to know ya beforehand, but ya were always busy, so Ah talked to your professors. Not that it was any help." The last sentence was spoken as a mutter, but despite this Jazz was grateful that the ice was effectively broken.

Prowl glanced back at the luggage piled on one the berths-Jazz's-and an almost regretful expression crossed his faceplates. "I would help you unpack your belongings, but there is a meeting I'm required to attend."

Jazz flashed a warm smile and waved his hand in a dismissing manner. "No problem. Meetin's are important." Jazz stepped to the side so Prowl could pass, then he turned to his berth to begin the tedious task of unpacking his belongings. But when he reached the bed, he realized that Prowl was still there, by the doorway.

He turned back around to discover that the Praxian had paused in the open frame and was apparently internally debating about something. After a few tiks of this, Prowl sighed and gave Jazz a small smile. "It was nice to meet you, Jazz." Then he left.

_Well, at least I got put with someone who knows how to smile_, Jazz thought as he opened the subspace compartments. _I think._

* * *

You really shouldn't ask where I get any of my ideas, just saying. Oh, and this is rated purely because I'm paranoid about it, and _possibly_ for later chapters (if I ever get around to writing said chapters).

Hopefully I'll actually update this or one of my (few)other stories. Or I can actually do my assignments. Whichever.

Read and review please, and I will love you forever!


	2. Chapter 2

It had been nearly a decacycle since Jazz had moved in and he had seen Prowl a total of maybe a joor, and spoken with him for maybe twelve breems.

Three cycles after the move-in, Jazz had attempted to contact him by camping out in the dorm room all the time, with the obvious exception of classes and energon retrieval. That hadn't worked, and Jazz's need for socialization had suffered big time. Occasionally he would spot the black-and-white around the campus, but before he could engage Prowl, the mech would disappear.

It was starting to irritate Jazz.

For one, he kind of had something to prove to Blaster and Beachcomber because of an incident involving a bet concerning Prowl and a rather unfortunate loss of credits. For another, he had attempted to transfer dorms already, but the Housing Director told him that unless he had a clear and valid reason to transfer, he would be staying put. He currently had no such reason.

At the moment, Jazz was sitting on the floor of the rec center while Blaster and Sunstreaker sparred. Sunstreaker was winning.

He and Prowl did share one class-Political Studies. Unfortunately, they didn't have the class at the same time, but they did have the same Professor. Maybe he could use that to get Prowl to actually talk to him.

It would be difficult. A grunt from Blaster sparked an idea for Jazz. Blaster often asked for help with his studies, at least the ones he didn't like.

A surprised cry followed by a loud thud as Blaster was slammed on his back. Yes, that would probably work. From what his professor had said, Prowl didn't have many other students approach him for tutoring, but when they did, he was more than happy to help.

Except for one problem. Jazz knew the subjects. True, he procrastinated about completing his work and usually had to pull several all-nighters before the due dates for big projects, but he always got his stuff in on time. Most of the time with a few breems to spare!

Blaster picked himself up, ventilations gasping. "Heh. Good one, Sunny. Next time I won't go easy on you." 'Sunny' braced himself, and easily swung Blaster around into the wall when he lunged.

Well, he was a skilled actor, so he could probably feign ignorance. He didn't want to, but if he was ever going to find some dirt on the mech, he probably had to. Besides, it would only be for a few joors, right? It couldn't be _that_ bad.

* * *

It _was_ that bad. Once again, Jazz sat on the floor of the rec. room and watched as Sunstreaker knocked Blaster's legs out from under him. Blaster landed with a loud 'oomf!' and Sunstreaker laughed in reply.

Jazz had managed to schedule some tutoring time with Prowl (with the help of Professor Shockwave), but he had only managed to last about half a joor before he had 'miraculous understanding' of the subject and thus ended the session.

It wasn't that Prowl was a bad tutor, or a particularly unpleasant bot. Quite the opposite. He was an excellent tutor, going slowly, systematically, going into explicit detail to make absolute sure Jazz knew everything he needed to know about what he was doing. And he was incredibly polite the entire time.

Jazz hated it.

For one thing, he didn't do very well with systematic. He preferred his on-the-fly, almost chaotic method of doing things. Sure, he was fine with explicit detail. When he presented his case to the Housing Director, he would need a great amount of it to convince the mech.

For another, Jazz didn't like being treated 'politely.' He liked being treated like a mech who could hold his own, stand on his own two peds. Prowl had gone into such great detail and had gone to such extreme measures that he understood that Jazz had felt like a helpless sparkling again.

"Keep your guard up." Sunstreaker coached.

If only Prowl was more like Sunny, Jazz thought wistfully. He watched as Sunny landed a hit to Blaster's abdomnal plates, directly after he had told the mech to guard his chestplates.

"What the frag?!" Blaster wheezed while clumsily blocking another hit to his side.

"What do you mean?" Another jab to his shoulder, another block.

"You told me to guard my chassis, and then you go for my tanks!" Blaster punched at Sunny's side, a hit that was easily blocked.

"Move your feet. The point here is to teach you to move your guard as needed." The golden mech took a small step back and then launched into a series of kicks that had Blaster backed up to the wall of the ring.

"I am moving my guard! I moved my arms and then you-"

"Hey, could you guys keep it down? I'm trying to brood here." Both mechs in the ring froze and turned to look as Jazz went back to pondering over his dilemma. Blaster had been spared from a rather unfortunate kick to his neck cables. Maybe if he brought some energon goodies, he could convince the Housing Director with what he had. But that just opened up a whole other door of problems. If he brought energon goodies, it could seem like he was trying to woo the Director, and he certainly didn't want that!

"Having problems with your new roommate?" Blaster suddenly appeared beside him.

Jazz sighed. The sound was tinged with an air of reluctance. "Yeah..."

"Spill. We can help." And there was Sunstreaker on the other side of him. Great. He was a sandwich.

"Fine." The two bots backed up a bit as he got up. He could feel, FEEL Sunstreaker's smugness at what was about to come out of his vocalizer. "You were right..."

Two nearly identical cries of "HA!" enveloped him as he headed towards the sparring ring. Sunstreaker followed, as Blaster was thoroughly beaten already.

The two took their starting positions, and once the match began, Jazz explained his problem with no small amount of chagrin.

* * *

"My apologies for the inconvenience, Director Soundwave, but as you can see, we simply not compatible as roommates." The young student finished explaining.

Soundwave looked down at the console screen that displayed the current dorm arrangements. He had placed the third-years Prowl and Jazz together, and so far both of them had come to request a change of accommodations within the same two joors.

"Soundwave: confused. Dorm room: originally Prowl's."

Prowl frowned at that. What was going on in that processor? It was so very tempting to find out. But...the last time he had given in to the temptation, he had uncovered a student-teacher affair that was highly disturbing, even if they _were _both Vosnian. "That is true, but I would never be so inconsiderate as to demand Jazz be moved. He's already been uprooted once." The Praxian's doorwings twitched a bit, belying his nervousness. There was something else going on. How badly did Soundwave really want to find out?

"Request: understood, accepted."

Prowl nodded and thanked him before turning to leave. But there was something in his expression that undermined whatever gratitude he had just shown. Add that to the miniscule sagging of the black and white doorwings, and it added up to: disappointment. Fascinating.

Soundwave watched the mech until he had closed the door behind him, before he made a mental note to further investigate, but not through telepathic means. Then he made another note on the console next to both Prowl and Jazz's designations, each indicating they were to be moved.

Separating them would inherently end whatever problem there was, and he wanted to find out more about it. He couldn't do that if the problem was removed, now could he?

Under his face mask, Soundwave smiled. He hadn't smiled in decacycles.

They were going to hate him _so_ much.

* * *

Oh, Soundwave. *shakes head* What are you getting yourself into?

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